I Still Love Her
by Lovely.ExOh
Summary: It is Junior's wedding day, and he knows he should be thinking about his future life with Laura, but all he can think about on this particular day, is none other than Kristine Furillo.


**A/N: This is my first wildfire fic, but it is not my first songfic. This is told through Junior's perspective. He is in his room getting ready to get married, and he is thinking about Kris. The song is called Himerus and Eros and it is by the Spill Canvas. **

_You're captivating while evading  
all the questions I have for you like,  
"what exactly makes you tick?"  
When the guilt sets in tell me  
what are we going to do?  
_

I can hear the violins. I can smell the cake. I can feel her hand on my cheek, caressing, loving. The thing is, she isn't here. She isn't the one in the room across the hall drowning in lace and silk. I check the door to make sure it's locked before I head to my bedside table and pull open the small drawer. There it is, a well worn picture of **her**. The folds are turning white, and the colors are fading.

She has always been like a mystery to me. I like to think that I know her better than anyone else, but then a sick feeling cascades into my stomach, reminding me that Matt knows her like that too. But I don't want to think about that right now. I want to think about the good.

_  
Your tongue is wet with a top secret passion  
I hope I am the cause of it  
I'll navigate this unsturdy vessel filled through a soft sea pillows and blankets_

I look out the window and there she is. I'm not sure whether I'm excited that she came, or that I'm scared. Her raven hair is loosely tied up, and chunks of her hair lie on her shoulder blades. I want nothing more than to brush them away and kiss the base of her neck, and worship her silky skin. I see her glance up at my window and she sees me. She smiles sadly, because I know, and waves. I nod and put my hand against the glass. She looks down and the sun catches on the glistening trail the tears have made on her cheeks.__

And I fight the urge to explore  
the vastness of your curves I adore  
You know I, I hate you  
No, I hate you more  
You know I, I love you  
No, I love you more

I don't want to love her. Truth be told, I wanted to **hate** her. I wanted to hate her for being so beautiful. I wanted to hate her for being so caring. I wanted to despise her for that episode she had with Matt. I tried to detest her for loving Kerry. I wanted to loath her for making me love her like I did. But it was physically impossible to love her. There was no one like her, and If I shut her out of my life, then she was gone. I would lose her forever.__

Yes, it's true  
You've brainwashed me and now I'm more confused  
I still somehow hope I end up with you  
Yes, it's true  
I romanticize every single thing I do  
especially when it comes to you

I was standing at the end of the isle. She's in the front row and I want to scream for everything to stop. I want to make the violinist's and the piano players, and the cellist, stop. I want to freeze everyone but me and Kris. I want to stop the world just as it is. I want to scoop her up in my arms, hold her close to me, and never let her go.

She has her elbows on her knees, her head in her hands. Her shoulders are shaking. She is trying so hard not to ruin the day for me, but nothing can make this day any worse than it already is.__

I've sunken in the quicksand's of love  
and I don't want you to rescue me  
Screw what my supposed friends think  
It's obvious they reek of jealousy  
It's obvious they reek of jealousy  


Laura is walking towards me. Something in my stomach clenches and I want to heave. She looks gorgeous. Her blond hair is loose, and wavy. Her skin is flawless. The dress is perfect. Everything is perfect. One thing isn't though. Kris should be the one in that dress. I want to see her raven tresses tumbling over her shoulders, framing her face. I want to see her awkwardly holding that bouquet of white roses. I want to see her walking down the isle with Pablo as her father, because she doesn't really have one.

I want to die.

_  
And I fight the urge to explore  
the vastness of your curves I adore  
You know I, I hate you  
No, I hate you more  
You know I, I love you  
No, I love you more_

The preacher is reading the vows. I can't hear him. I can't see anything but her. She is starting to get up and she is trying to discreetly walk out before her heart goes from being split in two, to being torn into a million pieces. I want to go after her, I want to. I'm desperate. I'm telling my feet to go, but they aren't going anywhere. I'm struggling. I'm sending frantic messages to my feet telling them to move, escape, before it's too late.__

Yes, it's true  
You've brainwashed me and now I'm more confused  
I still somehow hope I end up with you  
Yes, it's true  
I romanticize every single thing I do  
especially when it comes to you

When my feet finally start to move, I can hear Laura calling to me. She's asking where I'm going. What I'm doing. Why I'm doing this to her, but I have a feeling she already knows the answer to that question. I'm running now. I'm escaping what could have ended up killing two people. Destroying them from the inside out. I'm out of the tent, but you're gone. My hands instinctively rustle my strategically gelled hair and I spin in a circle. I have to find you. I need to feel you, I need to tell you, I need to know you still love me.__

I hope to god I mean a little more than the sounds that escape your tired 4 A.M. lips  
Oh-how I wish I meant a little more than a symphony of heavy breathing and the friction of hips

I finally find you by Wildfire's stall. I should have known that's where you would go. It's where you always go. I stand at the entrance of the barn, I listen to your one sided conversation.

"God help me I love him." I hear you sob. "What should I do? Please make this pain in my heart go away. Please make the nightmares of them together stop. Please, please, please."

My heart swells to the point where I think it's going to explode. I feel a grin melt onto my face and I decide that there is no way I can be this happy. I run to her and I kiss her. Her eyes are closed, and I'm not sure if she really knows who I am, but when my mouth moves against hers in a dance we both know and are helplessly addicted to, I'm sure she know.__

Yes, it's true  
You've brainwashed me and now I'm more confused  
I still somehow hope I end up with you  
Yes, it's true  
I romanticize every single thing I do  
especially when it comes to you

It's been a few years since that day. She's lying next to me on the bed. Her back is against the mattress, and her hands are behind her head. She is smiling at me, completely in bliss. I reach out and I rub her cheek and I kiss her palm before I let my hand stray to her abdomen. It is swollen and round, full of baby, her baby, **our** baby. I lean over and kiss it. I whisper to it that I love it, and that one day, it will know the story of how me and mommy met, that I will tell the story of how we broke up, how we danced around our love, trying so hard to avoid the unavoidable, and the story of how mommy and daddy really got together, and how we stayed that way.


End file.
